


The Winds of Solitude

by IdleWood



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleWood/pseuds/IdleWood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was everything she hated, proud, boastful and a murderer of her husband. But it seemed that fate had a grand sense of humour. And she soon questions everything she stood for. It seems that Elisif must suffer the winds of Solitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winds of Solitude

 

******_Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scroll series, the characters, locations and core storyline belong entirely to Bethesda._ ** ** **

* * *

### Chapter One: At Loss

 

The Blue Palace court was seemingly busy on this rainy Morndas. Elisif the Fair leant back in her regal seat as her husband Torryg dealt with the bitter ambassadors and weary courtiers. At times she was thankful that the steward, Falk Firebeard was around to help them deal with important person after important person. How Torryg managed to keep level-headed when dealing with bothersome Bureaucrats was beyond her, she supposed it was all the training Torryg was given from his father prior to his coronation that helped him deal with matters.

However no politician, King, Jarl or Ambassador was as bothersome as Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm. The man was a living nuisance, constantly arriving at the Blue Palace court almost every month to petition the High King to withdraw Skyrim from the Empire. She could see Torryg mull over the thought of getting Skyrim out of the Empire in his mind, and she could tell that it wouldn't be long until Torryg relented. But it was grating on Ulfric's patience, and that made Elisif nervous. She never did like the Jarl of Windhelm. The way he looked at her, the way he speaks to Torryg, the way he carries himself when he strides into their court. It was all calculating, measured carefully to gain a reaction or to bait someone, as though he was challenging someone. Whatever for, Elisif didn't know.

"Send Idgrod my regards," Torryg said cheerfully to a courier sent from Morthal, snapping Elisif out of her thoughts. "Tell her that I am well, and there is no need for her to be concerned about my health, I'm not dying of anything."

"It's not your health the Jarl of Morthal worried about, my lord." The Courier insisted nervously, his face turning red in mild embarrassment. "She claims that she has foreseen someone challenging you, a duel to death."

"Ah, Idgrod." Torryg sighed, still smiling as cheerful as he could be. "She has no reason to worry, I have plenty of men to protect me from any danger."

The Courier nodded and bowed before turning to leave the court. Elisif glanced around the courtroom, for some reason or another she couldn't get Ulfric out of her mind, she had a horrible feeling inside her that something terrible was going to happen. Elisif was not prone to flights of fancy, but if Idgrod the manic Jarl of Morthal had foreseen something happening to her husband, then perhaps they should take it seriously for once. But she dared not voice her thoughts allowed.

The giant doors of the court room opened and closed, a few people turned around and looked down over the balcony to see who had arrived. Some blinked in relative surprise, even General Tullius, the matured military general for the Empire looked relatively unnerved.

The steward, Falk Firebeard quickly looked over the numerous heads at court, and then quickly resumed his position. "Your Majesty, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm has arrived."

"And wishes to have an audience." A gruff voice added over the heads of the courtiers. Elisif's heart sank horribly in her chest as Ulfric Stormcloak came into view, stood in the centre of the room facing them. His dirty blonde hair braided, his blue eyes piercing and calculating as always. Elisif shuddered inside. This man was dangerous.

"Well my friend." Torryg greeted happily, oblivious to his wife's apparent discomfort. "It is good to see you again, may I ask why you have come?"

Torryg wasn't dim, he knew exactly why the Jarl of Windhelm had arrived. Ulfric was bold as always, even though he spoke treason he knew Torryg wouldn't have him arrested and thrown in the dungeons. He never held back, and always spoke his mind. Elisif guessed it was because Torryg respected the man, no matter how ill-placed it seemed to be.

"The same reason why I came here last time, and the time before that." Ulfric said boldly, as though making a statement to the entire world. "I would ask you, to withdraw Skyrim from the Empire, to annul it's position in the White-Gold Concordat!"

Sheer awe. Everyone watched in buzzing silence, the atmosphere was electric. No one uttered a single word and watched as Torryg looked back to his friend in quiet thought. Even Falk Firebeard was unable to say anything to the man. Finally, Torryg let out a heavy sigh.

"I understand that this is a cause that means a lot to you my friend." Torryg said calmly, in an almost dismissive tone. "But you must understand the values the Empire holds, it isn't for me to decide however, but for the people."

"And how long will it take for you to realise that every man, woman and child do not want to be part of an Empire that has let them down, that undermines our traditions?" Ulfric spat, his eyes glaring at Torryg who leant back in his seat. "We have waited to long for you to take action Torryg."

No one made a move or sound. All eyes were on the two men, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Which is why, I challenge you, High King Torryg, to a duel that dates back to the beginning our traditions and forefathers." The excitement exploded as everyone quickly babbled in their shock, Elisif quickly turned to face her husband.

"Torryg, no!" She begged, her heart racing. "Please don't do this, just give him the referendum he wants!"

The room turned quiet again, and all attention returned to Torryg who closed his eyes and breathed heavily. Then after a moment to collect himself, he glanced back up to Ulfric.

"Then by my honour, I accept the duel. What are the terms?"

"We fight, to death." Ulfric answered, his voice echoed the room. A few people gasped, others shook their heads in disbelief. Elisif turned to her husband again, her eyes pleading. This was what Idgrod had meant. If only she had sent her message earlier, if only she wasn't a cryptic.

"Torryg please." She begged again, her eyes watering with panic and desperation. "Don't do this."

Torryg turned to his wife, took her hand and kissed the wedding ring on her finger. "I love you, you know that." He whispered softly, gently squeezing her hand. "Don't forsake me, my love. We'll be together again soon, I promise."

And then he stood up from his throne and walked over to Ulfric, taking his sword from his Housecarl who had immediately stepped forward to hand it to him. Elisif could only watch in horror, he knew all along his time was up. She watched as sword and axe clashed, people moving away to avoid getting caught up.

Then the whole palace shook, as a deep rumble came from deep within Ulfric. Torryg was thrown backwards in the air from the force of the shout that had emitted from his opponent. Elisif screamed in agony as Ulfric stepped up towards Torryg, his sword ready to stab.

"Talos guide your soul." He muttered softly, and then ended Torryg's life as though it were nothing. The next seconds seemed to blur. Ulfric fled from the scene without looking back. Elisif threw herself onto her dead husband, begging him to wake. General Tullius and the rest of the courtiers and politicians alike, erupted with fury as they gathered the guardsmen to go after the murderer.

Elisif could no longer feel anything as Falk Firebeard tried to lift her to her feet and take her from the courtroom away from the scene of carnage.


End file.
